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Painted-on Costume (*/F; Story+Illustration; bodypaint, forced orgasm, tickling bdsm)

Wanda_Bedomd

TMF Novice
Joined
Dec 27, 2017
Messages
68
Points
6
(DISCLAIMER: Wanda Bedomd, Sadie Hystic, Perovia, and ComixCon are all fictional entities. Any relation to other entities is not intentional, except when it is, in which case the author claims Fair Use to portray a parody of the existing entity.)

The night before the official start of the convention, I was scheduled as the art model for a "full-body costume painting" seminar at a small art school in San Diego. I really didn't want to go anywhere other than my hotel room after what Sadie had put me through on the train, but I really couldn't afford to flake on this gig.
I checked into my hotel first, and took a long, hot shower. As I slipped into the costume the school had requested - my infamous Molotov Cocktease cosplay - I shuddered at the unpleasant memories I had made in it, years before. I reminded myself that this was a legitimate art gig, and that neither Sadie nor any horny frat boys would be there this time, and then I called a Lyft to take me to the address I had been given.
Just getting to the gig proved to be an ordeal. My Lyft driver seemed to take an unusually long route, hitting on me and keeping his eyes more on my body in his rear-view mirror than on the road. I got out early and decided to walk the rest of the way, which was probably a mistake after dark. A close call with some shady men on the street sent me running to the art school, only to have the security guard try to make up excuses to "frisk me" when I thought I was safe. This lead to me being incredibly flustered when Professor Overlook finally came and got me.
She seemed rather frazzled about how late I was, and hurried me to an elevator before I could even mention the guard's behavior, chatting the whole way. "Your costume is absolutely perfect for this project. So detailed, but skin-tight! It looks practically painted on already!"
I was a bit confused by what that last bit meant, but I was too disstressed at this point to think on it too hard, and all I could manage was, "uh, thanks?"
Overlook continued chatting a mile-a-minute. "No, thank you! This whole thing was kind of booked last minute! We're doing an exchange with an art school in Perovia, you see. Fascinating country! So many unusual customs! Anyway, we have a bunch of students visiting from there, and I put this session together for them!"
As we made our way to the elevator and rode it slowly up, the professor spouted out 'interesting' facts about Perovia at a rate that made my head spin, pausing only when interrupted by the bell indicating that the elevator doors were about to open.
"-and did you know that Perovia has an interesting custom regarding head shakes and nods? Much like in Bulgaria, they actually *BING* - oh! Here we are, P2!"
My attention snapped back to reality, and I followed her into the large art studio. About eight people in their early 20's chatted to each other in a language I didn't recognize. Two tall, muscular young women with light blonde hair - appearing to be identical twins - stood up shortly after we entered and rushed over to us.
The professor cheerily gestured from me to them. "Wanda, these robust young women are Hilda and Hilga! Their English isn't so great, but they are very eager learners I must say! And always so eager to help with any heavy lifting around the studio!"
"Ve iz eager to help!" the two replied in chipper unison.
"Hilda, Hilga, this is Wanda, the model for tonight," Overlook said to the twins, slowly over-enunciating each word.
"Ve iz eager to help!" the two repeated in the same cheerful tone.
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The professor lead me over to a small platform to pose on, and the students gathered around. They each took multiple photos of me with their phones (which I thought to be odd, usually in these kinds of classes you are encouraged to just draw or paint what you see) and then began to do quick sketches of me, moving around to get me from different angles.
The professor joined in on the sketching until she was unexpectedly interrupted by her phone. "Sorry! Sorry!" she apologized as she fumbled to take it out of her bag. "What is it, John? I'm in the middle of a lesson. What? WHAT? Hold on, I'll be right there!"
The professor hurried up to me after putting her phone away, looking very concerned. "I'm so sorry! We're having an issue with the freezers, and the ice sculpting exhibit is melting! I need to go take care of this, immediately. Are you fine here on your own? Hilda and Hilga will be happy to assist you with changing or anything else you need!"
"Ve iz eager to help!" the twins chimed in, before I could respond.
I hesitated, unsure, but felt guilty about saying no. I didn't even think about why I would need to change - I thought I was just booked for the one costume. "Uh, sure. No problem, ma'am."
"Oh, thank God! I'll be right downstairs." She turned to the twins. "You remember how to operate the changing curtain and the ropes and pulleys?"
"Ve iz eager to help!" The twins responded while shaking their heads.
"Good! Ok, I have to go!" The professor ran for the door, almost tripping on an easel on the way out.
I resumed my posing for about another ten minutes before the twins got up and came over to me.
"Change! Ve iz eager to help!" they said as they took me firmly by the arm and lead me to the back of the room. I was a bit annoyed at the manhandling (and intimidated by how strong they were), but they let go of me shortly and began to pull the ropes to pull a changing curtain into place.
"Ok. Uh, I guess I'll change," I said as I started to remove my costume.
It took me about ten minutes to remove it all, during which I could hear clattering from the other side of the curtain as the students set something up. Then I heard the heavy footsteps of the twins as they came back to the curtain and announced "Ve iz ready!"
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"Ok, do you have the next costume for me or w- EEEEK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The twins drew the curtain back unexpectedly, leaving me standing there unexpectedly naked in front of the entire class, trying my best to cover myself with just my hands.
"Ve iz eager to help!" The twins smiled and again tried to take me by the arm.
"NO! THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF HELPING! I DON'T DO NUDE MODELING! HEY, LET GO!"
Not taking a hint, the two strong women simply picked me up and carried me over to the center of the room, where I could see that ropes and a harness had been set up.
"WAIT! WHAT IS THAT FOR? ENOUGH!"
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"Ve iz eager to help!" the twins piped cheerfully as they secured me, hanging naked and helpless in the center of the class as the other students got out their paints and brushes and chattered to each other in a language I didn't understand. I felt my whole body blush hotly with embarrassment.
As I struggled futilely and looked around, I realized they had put the easels and canvases to the side of the room. As they started to approach me with paintbrushes outstretched, it dawned on me what was going on.

I was the canvas.

"No... NO NO! You CAN'T, I'M TOO TICKLEEEEK HAHAHA STAHAHAHAP EHEHEHEHT!"
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It was torture from the moment the brushes touched my flesh. I'd never been able to stand to even have just my HAND painted, and suddenly I had strangers painting all over my naked body. They chatted nonchalantly to each other as they looked back and forth from the reference photos of me in costume on their phones and back to my naked helpless body, some painting red onto my hands and feet while others painted black onto my sides. I bucked and struggled futilely in the harness that I hung from, struggling to plead with them to stop between uncontrollable laughter.
"NO MORE! HAHAHHAH! OH PLEASE! PLEAHEEHEEHEE! STOP! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"
They clearly didn't, and only seemed to chuckle at my laughing. When one made eye contact with me as he began to paint my right breast with black paint, I shook my head back and forth, hoping to communicate for him to stop. Instead, he just smiled at me and shook his head back at me before he began dragging his wet brush in circles on my stiff nipple, the ticklish sensation from it shooting through me like lightning as I felt my once pink nub of flesh grow harder and more sensitive with every stroke!
Then I felt multiple brushes working on my feet, stiff wet fibers running up and down my soles and between my toes. Every nerve down there seemed to fire off at once, and tears formed in my eyes from me laughing so hard.
"HAHAHAHA NOHOHO! HAHAHA! NAHAHAHAT MY NIP-HEHEHEHE-NIPPLES! NOT MY FEEHEEHEEET!"
I squirmed and writhed in the harness, my breasts flopping about, my arms and legs flailing as much as they could in the restraints. I felt one of the brushes that was painting my side slide into my belly button as I jerked about, drawing a dark black line across my midriff. The girl with that brush cursed at me in Perovian, and pointed to the photo of me in costume, specifically to my uncovered belly. She then grabbed a jar of soapy water and a large q-tip, and began scrubbing in and around my belly button to try and get the paint off. The sensation of it digging into my navel drove me mad! At the same time, two men had made their way up to my armpits, and I felt those cruel bristles glide around smoothly in my freshly waxed armpits, working all around to spread the paint. My stomach ached from laughing so much. I shook my head and protested, but it fell on un-understanding ears.
*GASP* "PUHUHUHLEASE HUHUHUHAHAHAH NO MORE! NO MOHORHORHORE!"
I lost track of time. It seemed like days went by as the wet brushes probed all of my most ticklish spots. Pain and unwanted ecstasy blended together while a sense of helplessness and unwanted sexual arousal filled me up.
Finally they stopped.
Only for a moment. Too brief a moment.
I barely registered the creaking of the pulleys as I was pulled slightly higher in the air and my legs were pulled slightly further apart. Then it occurred to me what part of my costume hadn't been painted on yet.
I don't know why I bothered protesting, I knew they didn't understand. Yet I did, breathlessly.
"No... Puh-please, not that. I have a condition or something. I'm waaay too sensitive down there. PLEASE don't. Please please please pleEEEEEKHHHHHEEHEEEHEEE!!! NO! NO! EEEE! *GASP* FUCK! STOP! HEEEHEEEHEEE!"
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Misunderstanding only went so far. They had to be getting off on this. I felt more brushes then I could count painting up and down my inner thighs, on my sensitive ass cheeks and in between them, on my taint, and on my pussy. It felt like getting the weirdest oral sex ever but way more ticklish. Every stroke on my sensitive flesh overwhelmed me with an indescribable mix of sensations, and moans of pleasure began to mix with my involuntary giggling.
*GASP* "HEEEHEEEEHEEE AWWWW HEEHEEHEE OHHHHH!"
I felt one brush find my asshole, while another found my clit. I felt them brush up and down my labia, long after they finished covering them with paint. One of the male students shimmied back over to my chest, and apparently decided it was time for some fingerpainting. He dipped his fingers in black paint and then began to pinch and flick my tender nipple. I was too exhausted to crane my head up to look, but I felt something, maybe a finger, slide inside me and massage my g-spot.
Suddenly I felt my whole body tense and release and a wave of pleasure wash over me as I orgasmed. My moan echoed off the studio walls, but they didn't stop "painting me" and sexual sensations again gave way to ticklish ones.
"NOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEASE STAHAP I'M BEHEHEGGING! DOHOHOHN'T TICKLE ME AFTER I'VE CUHUHUHUM!"
They didn't even slow down. In fact, I think the intensity increased. My body glistened with both sweat and paint now, I laughed and moaned and squealed and continued to squirm as much as I could. I felt another orgasm build, and I silently begged my body not to.
It did not obey.
Another climax rocked through me. The cycle continued over and over, for what could have been years for all I could tell, when finally they stopped.
As I gasped for breath, they lowered me to the ground and undid my straps.
I didn't have the strength to resist as they posed me and took pictures of me in my new painted-on costume.
The students packed up and began to leave one by one, until only the twins were left. Hilda and Hilga hoisted me to a chair and ran their hands through my thick red hair. Hilda suddenly grabbed my hair close to the scalp while Hilga surprised me with an intense kiss right on the lips. I quivered, and I wasn't even sure if it was from arousal or fear until she whispered in my ear.
"I'm not even from Perovia, you stupid, sexy bitch."

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Last edited:
(Sorry to disappear on you guys for 5 months! I should have something new for you next month, too, assuming you guys still like my work! It will be a sort of tribute to the Redhead from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, as she was before the recent change to make her more PC.)
 
Wow that was amazing! Thanks for sharing ;-) hope we see more of you tickled (as Molotov or otherwise) very soon!
 
Of course, the paint job was not good enough and must be removed and redone.
 
Great story and illustrations! Thanks for sharing them with us. :D
It is always my pleasure!

Wow that was amazing! Thanks for sharing ;-) hope we see more of you tickled (as Molotov or otherwise) very soon!
Soon! The next one is a tribute to The Redhead from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride (prior to the recent update that changed her).

Delicious stuff, great story!
Thanks! This particular story was troublesome to write for some reason. I have two previous drafts that I completely scrapped and started over on.

Of course, the paint job was not good enough and must be removed and redone.
Nuuuuu! You're awful.
 
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